Sheryl Crow Albums (8)
What The Critics Say
Nothing puts life in perspective like a brush with death, and that truism is brought into blazing relief on Sheryl Crow's sixth album, Detours. Crow survived a battle with breast cancer in February 2006. Around that same time, she separated from fiancé Lance Armstrong and, roughly a year later, she adopted a son. That's a decade's worth of life packed into two years, but these highs and lows -- or Detours as she calls them -- have led Crow to produce her liveliest, weirdest album since 1996's messy masterpiece Sheryl Crow. On that record, Crow shook up her success by undercutting the retro-rock of Tuesday Night Music Club with loping looped beats and a skewed lyricism that kept even bright tunes like "A Change Will Do You Good" slightly off-kilter, but ever since that album her records grew increasingly mannered, as she whittled away her eccentricities. All those eccentricities return on Detours, partially due to that tidal wave of life events, but also to the revival of her relationship with producer Bill Bottrell, the man who helmed Tuesday Night Music Club. Bottrell and Crow had an acrimonious split during the making of the second album -- several of their collaborations did make that record, including "Maybe Angels" and "Hard to Make a Stand" -- and while Sheryl sustained her stardom, no producer let her be as loose or revealing as Bottrell, as he helped give her pop tunes odd, distinguishing touches and kept her ballads spare and haunting. These gifts are put into sharp relief on Detours -- perhaps a shade too sharp, actually, as the album is divided into a half of careening protest pop and a half of moody introspection, which may showcase how Bottrell captures Crow's distinct moods, but doesn't quite give this album the classicist flow of her first records. Even if the album slows down a bit too much on its second stretch -- the one containing unadorned confessionals of broken engagements ("Diamond Ring"), cancer ("Make It Go Away [Radiation Song]"), and adoption ("Lullaby for Wyatt") -- the individual moments all work according to their own merits, while that first half contains Crow's most compelling music in years. Much of this is explicitly political -- references to war, petroleum, and New Orleans all run rampant -- but compared to her sometimes didactic public speeches, her socially conscious writing is surprising, filled with odd juxtapositions and sly jokes. That sense of humor alone is a relief, but it's married to music that's restless, encompassing the worldbeat textures of "Peace Be Upon Us" (featuring Ahmed Al Himi on backing vocals), the lopsided shuffle of "Love Is Free," and the sultry '70s Stones swagger of "Gasoline." Crow hasn't been this free or fine since Sheryl Crow, but there is an emotional directness on Detours that makes this a progression, not a retreat, and with any luck, this album isn't a one-time journey down a side road but rather the touchstone for the next act in her career. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Originally, Sheryl Crow planned to have her follow-up to 2002's Top Ten hit C'mon, C'mon be two simultaneously released albums, announcing their autumn release at the beginning of 2005, but by the time the fall rolled around, the project had been scaled back to a single album: Wildflower. If C'mon, C'mon was a cheerful, bright record ideal for sunny summer days, Wildflower is its opposite, a warm, introspective record that's tailored for the fall. It's not dissimilar to 1998's The Globe Sessions, which felt like a somber hangover to the wonderfully weird party of her eponymous 1996 second album, but where The Globe Sessions had a weary, heartbroken feel, there's a comfortable, lived-in atmosphere and sense of genuine affection on Wildflower. Celebrity press and pre-release hype attributed this love-mad vibe to Crow's romance with cyclist Lance Armstrong -- the couple announced its engagement the same month Wildflower was released -- and there surely must be some sort of correlation between Crow's personal life and work, but anybody looking for an album explicitly about her relationship with Lance (the way that, say, Eric Benet's Hurricane is all about his divorce from Halle Berry) will be disappointed. There are certainly plenty of songs about love here, but Crow's songs are not about specific events (unless they're neo-protest songs like the lively "Live It Up"). They're open-ended, so it's easy to hear the record and never think about Armstrong. As a matter of fact, the subjects of the songs matter less than the feel of the album. It's easy to spin Wildflower a couple of times before the songs start to sink in -- unlike her other records, there's nothing here that immediately grabs your attention, they're all growers -- but the mood of the record is immediately appealing. That sustained warm, burnished, relaxed feel -- at once rootsy and upscale, modest and classy -- is reason enough to return to Wildflower to give the songs a chance to take root, and once they do, the album seems to be one of her most consistent records and one of her best. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
It's hard to call The Globe Sessions a stumble, but its stripped-down, straightforwardness paled in comparison to the dark pop-culture kaleidoscope of Sheryl Crow's eponymous second album. That's why C'mon, C'mon, Crow's long-delayed fourth album, is such a delight -- it's the sunny flip side of that masterpiece, a skillful synthesis of classic rock and modern sensibilities that's pretty irresistible. Crow has turned into the professional she always acted she was -- she not only crafts songs impeccably, she knows how to record them, filling the record with interesting sonic details, whether it's the Steve Miller-styled "woo hoo"s on "Steve McQueen" or subtle Mellotrons on "Over You." That kind of sly sonic adventure was missing from Globe Sessions, as was her predilection for almost-absurd lyrical asides -- check the digital cable reference on the lead single, "Soak Up the Sun," along with its opening line of "My friend, the communist" -- and the return of both makes C'mon, C'mon a delightful return to form. There's so much to enjoy on the surface of the record, particularly in its unashamed glossy sheen and classically structured hooks, that it's easy to enjoy just on that level, yet it also works as a set of songs nearly as consistent and rich as those on her second album. Where Sheryl Crow was a quintessential fall album -- even at its happiest, there was an undercurrent of melancholy and weariness -- this is a record designed for the sunkissed open road of spring and summer. Even when she's singing about heartache, there's an assured sense of purpose, even a swagger, to this album that shines through. Yet it doesn't just work a mood, it showcases her skills at a peak. It's Sheryl Crow at her best, delivering music that is firmly rooted in the past, yet recorded and performed with a modern feel and flair, something that was absent from The Globe Sessions. It's pretty much what the follow-up to Sheryl Crow should have been and what she needed to release for her fourth album, but even better than expected. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
'Sheryl Crow and Friends: Live in Central Park'
Release Date 12/7/1999
Tracks 14
Label A&M
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Most concerts in Central Park are an event, and Sheryl Crow designed hers to be an event with a capital E, performing duets with Keith Richards, Eric Clapton, Stevie Nicks, Chrissie Hynde, Sarah McLachlan, and the Dixie Chicks and releasing it as Sheryl Crow and Friends: Live in Central Park. The set list boasts all the hits, good selections from The Globe Sessions, and several crowd-pleasing covers. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Since her dense, varied, post-modernist eponymous second album illustrated that Sheryl Crow was no one-album wonder, she wasn't left with as much to prove the third time around. Having created an original variation on roots rock with Sheryl Crow, she was left with the dilemma of how to remain loyal to that sound without repeating herself on her third album, The Globe Sessions. To her credit, she never plays lazy, not when she's turning out Stones-y rockers ("There Goes the Neighborhood") or when she's covering Dylan (the remarkable "Mississippi," an outtake from Time Out of Mind). However, she has decided to abandon the layered, yard-sale production and pop-culture fixations that made Sheryl Crow a defining album of the mid-'90s. The Globe Sessions, instead, is the work of a craftsman, one who knows how to balance introspective songs with pop/rockers, one who knows how to exploit their signature sound while becoming slightly more eclectic. In that sense, the album is a lot like a latter-day album from her idols, the Stones -- it finds pleasures within the craft and the signature sound themselves. That means that there are no surprises (apart from the synthesized handclaps, of course). The Celtic homage "Riverwide" may be new, but it's not unexpected, much like how the whiplash transition in "Am I Getting Through" isn't entirely out of the blue. That's not necessarily a bad thing, though, since The Globe Sessions has a strong set of songs. Since it lacks the varied sonics, humor, and flat-out weirdness of Sheryl Crow, it's never quite as compelling a listen as its predecessor, yet it is a strong record, again confirming Crow's position as one of the best roots-rockers of the '90s. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Hiring noted roots experimentalists Tchad Blake and Mitchell Froom as engineer and consultant, respectively, Sheryl Crow took a cue from their Latin Playboys project for her second album -- she kept her roots rock foundation and added all sorts of noises, weird instruments, percussion loops, and off-balance production to give Sheryl Crow a distinctly modern flavor. And, even with the Stonesy grind of "Sweet Rosalyn" or hippie spirits of "Love Is a Good Thing," it is an album that couldn't have been made any other time than the '90s. As strange as it may sound, Sheryl Crow is a postmodern masterpiece of sorts -- albeit a mainstream, post-alternative, postmodern masterpiece. It may not be as hip or innovative as, say, the Beastie Boys' Paul's Boutique, but it is as self-referential, pop culture obsessed, and musically eclectic. Throughout the record, Crow spins out wild, nearly incomprehensible stream-of-consciousness lyrics, dropping celebrity names and products every chance she gets ("drinking Falstaff beer/Mercedes Ruehl and a rented Leer"). Often, these litanies don't necessarily add up to anything specific, but they're a perfect match for the mess of rock, blues, alt-rock, country, folk, and lite hip-hop loops that dominate the record. At her core, she remains a traditionalist -- the songcraft behind the infectious "Change Would Do You Good," the bubbly "Everyday Is a Winding Road," and the weary "If It Makes You Happy" helped get the singles on the radio -- but the production and lyrics are often at odds with those instincts, creating for a fascinating and compelling (and occasionally humorous) listen and one of the most individual albums of its era. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Sheryl Crow earned her recording contract through hard work, gigging as a backing vocalist for everyone from Don Henley to Michael Jackson before entering the studio with Hugh Padgham to record her debut album. As it turned out, things didn't go entirely as planned. Instead of adhering to her rock & roll roots, the record was a slick set of contemporary pop, relying heavily on ballads. Upon hearing the completed album, Crow convinced A&M not to release the album, choosing to cut a new record with producer Bill Bottrell. Along with several Los Angeles-based songwriters and producers, including David Baerwald, David Ricketts, and Brian McLeod, Bottrell was part of a collective dubbed "the Tuesday Night Music Club." Every Tuesday, the group would get together, drink beer, jam, and write songs. Crow became part of the Club and, within a few months, she decided to craft her debut album around the songs and spirit of the collective. It was, for the most part, an inspired idea, since Tuesday Night Music Club has a loose, ramshackle charm that her unreleased debut lacked. At its best -- the opening quartet of "Run, Baby, Run," "Leaving Las Vegas," "Strong Enough," and "Can't Cry Anymore," plus the deceptively infectious "All I Wanna Do" -- are remarkable testaments to their collaboration, proving that roots rock can sound contemporary and have humor. That same spirit, however, also resulted in some half-finished songs, and the preponderance of those tracks make Tuesday Night Music Club better in memory than it is in practice. Still, even with the weaker moments, Crow manages to create an identity for herself -- a classic rocker at heart but with enough smarts to stay contemporary. And that's the lasting impression Tuesday Night Music Club leaves. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
